every day is a yellow day
by puertoricanjane
Summary: Sexual attraction has always eluded Nozaki's understanding. (Asexual!Nozaki/Sakura)


Sexual attraction has always eluded Nozaki's understanding.

He understands romance just fine—he's never been in love, not yet, but Nozaki is a dutiful student and he wouldn't have become a shoujo mangaka in the first place if nothing about it appealed to him, if he wasn't as drawn in as his readers by the soft looks, tender feelings, and slow going intimacy. He thinks he likes that best, how unhurried it is, the emphasis on emotional over physical. It all clicks in a way that none of the boys' locker room conversations ever had. Sex isn't appealing, not at all, and neither is kissing, but there's something to be said about the more subtle displays—the quiet brushing of fingers, or a head leaning into a chest, onto a shoulder.

Everything else he wonders about in a detached, clinical manner, but this—

It warms him.

X

Sakura's there, day after day, ribbons in her hair and ink staining her fingers, the shift so gradual he hardly notices it at all. Her growing emotional importance sneaks up on him; he's glad, not for her assistance though she's been monumental in that, but to have her here, in his apartment, in his life. They reach for an ink bottle at the same time—she flushes, retracting her fingers hastily. Nozaki doesn't over-think such things. A hand's a hand, no matter who's touching or holding it, but more and more he catches himself staring at her ink stained fingers, an inexplicable happiness welling up in him. He's made a mark in this small way at least—it's insignificant, especially compared to the one she's made on him, but in this moment, alone with Sakura in the stillness of his apartment, it feels like enough.

She catches his eye and smiles. It's like the sun coming out from behind the clouds and Nozaki thinks if he's an ink blot you're still struggling to scrub off your skin hours afterward then she must be the finger paints children use, leaving streaks of color all over his walls and heart.

X

"I love you," Sakura tells him in passing one day, soft and sweet. She gives him a breathtaking smile then promptly goes back to beta like the world hasn't just turned on its axis, leaving Nozaki wide-eyed, staring blankly at the red ribboned head bent over paper. It eventually comes back up and her eyes—they're so bright. "Oh, Nozaki-kun," she says, lips twitching at the look that must be on his face. She sets aside the manga to take his hands, squeezing them gently. "I just wanted to tell you once. I've been trying for so long."

Nozaki remembers all the times Sakura's stammered and blushed around him, trying to pluck the words for something out of thin air and Nozaki giving her his autograph without fail, pleased with himself for being able to so accurately anticipate her needs.

"Oh," he says, blinking. His heart gives an uncomfortable twist. Has he been hurting her all this time? But Sakura doesn't look hurt, or sad, or resigned; she just keeps looking at him in the same soft way she always has and it hits him then, why lately writing Mamiko and Suzuki has been easier than ever.

_I'm an idiot_, he thinks.

There's a tentative curve to Sakura's smile and ink smudging both their knuckles and Nozaki loves her. He does. Not in a hungry, desperate way, but warm and gentle and real, and there are surely differences between what Nozaki and Sakura want and feel but the essence of it, he thinks, can't be anything else.

"I'm happy with the way things are, Nozaki-kun," Sakura says as the silence stretches on. Her eyes are soft and imploring, and Nozaki knows she means it, that she's not just saying it to make him feel better. "I really, really am. I don't want things to be strained or awkward between us."

He can hear the ticking of the clock.

Hasn't he read this scene in shoujo manga countless times? Where did all the words go? But then no manga he's ever read has had a love confession followed by a disclaimer of zero interest in the physical intimacy most couples engage in.

Nozaki swallows his heart in his throat and tells her.

She's smiling wetly by the time he finishes and he's working himself into a mild frenzy at upsetting her enough to make her cry when she_ laughs_.

"It's okay," she says, gripping his hand with surprising strength, her smile brighter than any pail of yellow paint. "Being by your side, Nozaki-kun...it's more than enough."

She curls into him, eyes closing when she leans her head onto his shoulder.

Nozaki presses his face to her hair and breathes.


End file.
